


How We Feel Is Hard to Fake (So Let's Not Give the Game Away)

by EternallyEC



Category: Victorious (TV)
Genre: Cade - Freeform, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mild Smut, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternallyEC/pseuds/EternallyEC
Summary: When she kisses you, you think that you want to die.The evolution of a relationship can be murky and the best thing that's ever happened to you.
Relationships: Cat Valentine/Jade West
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	How We Feel Is Hard to Fake (So Let's Not Give the Game Away)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeegaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeegaze/gifts).



> Here's a fun fact: Cade was my first Victorious ship when I watched it for the first time at the end of February. I've wanted to write them for a while and now here I am. Please let me know what you think!

When she kisses you, you think that you want to die. 

Her lips are soft as they move against yours; her tongue, usually so sharp and cutting is gentle and probing as it slips into your mouth. You can't help but moan as you wrap your arms around her in a desperate bid to get closer to her. 

It feels like heaven and hell and everything in-between and you're pretty sure that this must be what dying feels like. 

At first, the kisses are rare and given only as a special reward if you did something right or nice or if she's just in an unusually good mood that day. And then they become more frequent but somehow never any less special, and the way they make you feel is never any different either. 

When she kisses you after school one day, you think that you might shoot up into the stars and fly away with how light you feel. There's something new about the movement of her lips on yours, about the careful way her firm hands are gently grasping your hips, and it's surprisingly tender and sweet in a way you didn't know that the girl who is as pointy and sharp as her favorite accessory could be. 

And when she dips her fingers into the band of her shorts, dragging soft fingers across your skin before letting her hands meet over the button holding them together, you know that you can't deny her anything. More to the point, you have no idea why you would ever  _ want  _ to. 

When she pulls back from the kiss with dark, questioning eyes, you nod because you don't think you could speak if you wanted to (and if you could, it would probably just end badly with the way your thoughts come out all jumbled up and in a rush in the best of times anyway). 

You're still not sure what you are to each other as you lay beside each other in your bed, your remaining clothes askew because you don't have the energy to fix them. You're still quiet because you have no idea what you're supposed to say or even what you would say if you could figure it out. 

It's only when she gets up and leaves, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek first, that you realize that you're the only one who got anything tangible out of this encounter. And somehow, that only makes you feel even more confused by the girl you'd thought you knew better than anyone. 

Because your best friend, she's not the type to give without taking. You know this, you've always known this. Asking her for a favor always comes with strings, you've accepted that as a worthy trade for being her friend. So as you finally get up and fix your state of undress, the question of why this is so  _ different  _ won’t stop playing in your head. 

She touched you and made you feel like you were riding a unicorn among the stars, she's made you feel so many things you've never felt before and you can't help but wonder what's in it for her, why she's doing this for you instead of  _ with  _ you. 

But you can't find the courage to ask her or to say no when she asks again. And she does ask again, and not always in what you might consider appropriate places. But when you're pressed up against the door of the janitor's closet with her fingers inside of you and her lips on yours, you're too ready to burst with all of the emotions and pleasure you're feeling to focus on the danger of the situation. 

She's burning you up from the inside out and some days, you think you'd happily let her consume you entirely if only you knew she felt anything like what you do. 

And then comes graduation. 

Things haven't cooled between the two of you; far from it, in fact. She seems to be conscious of the fact that soon you'll be miles and miles apart at different colleges and taking full advantage of the time you have left. Sometimes, though it kills you to do so, you even have to gently refuse her, because your body needs a break from the constant attention she pays to it. 

It's on one of these occasions, the night before graduation, that you finally get the courage up (with the help of some drinks she's stolen for the two of you to celebrate with) to ask the question. 

"What are we?" 

The words hang heavy in the air between you, and you nervously tuck a strand of red velvet cupcake tinted (but not flavored, unfortunately) between your lips as you study her carefully, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," she says after a moment, eyes unreadable as she stares at you. "What do you want to be?" 

"Yours." 

The answer comes as naturally as breathing; for something that's hung so heavy around your neck for years, you're surprised at how easy it is to say. 

But nothing can prepare you for the way her head tilts and a slow smile blooms across that normally solemn face, even reaching those blue-green eyes you love to stare into while you reach heights you never imagined were reachable before her. 

"Then you are." 

That night, you don't just let her fuck you. You finally get the chance to touch and taste and tease her for yourself, to see the way she looks as you use every trick you've learned from her and some of your own to push her over the edge. 

You're finally making love and it's everything you ever wanted and more and you don't know how you ever lived without it. 

This time, neither of you get dressed and you sleep in her arms, warm and secure in the knowing of her. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from _Please Don't Say You Love Me_ by Gabrielle Aplin.


End file.
